


Indefinite Fusion

by Denise



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise/pseuds/Denise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanaan gets to know his new host</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indefinite Fusion

* * *

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

* * *

He lies there so still; I can barely see his chest rise. The white linens that surround him accentuate the pallor of his face. I can not see all of his body, but what I can see looks fit. There does not appear to be a physical deformity, although I do catch a glimpse of scars on his lean frame. This is no mere human, it is a warrior. A fighting man laid low by the tiniest of enemies.

He is not alone. His friends surround him. This is no lost soul offered to me, it is a respected and cared for man. It is rare for potential hosts to journey to us with an entourage. Solitary, frightened or bitter individuals are far more common. I can see the concern and fear upon his friends' faces, sense the desperation and a wary vigilance from them. They know that he is dying, and they hope that his death can be prevented. I pray that I am up to the task.

I do not know what illness this human suffers from. Perhaps it is simple, perhaps something complex. I fear it is the latter, his companions appear sophisticated enough to cure simple diseases, but I do not know for sure. I will not know until it is too late. I do know that I failed last time. I tried to heal my previous host, really I did. But all I could do was stand by and witness his death.

I remember his thoughts, I felt his fears. I was a witness to his demise, and am the keeper of his soul.

I am afraid of failing again; afraid of feeling another soul leave this existence. What if I can not heal him? What if he dies? Will he understand or will he curse me with his dying thoughts?

I would rather wait, sustain myself in a pool until I could find a host whose eyes I could see, whose soul I could read. I wish I could have a host that would welcome me with open arms and an inviting smile. A host that wants me, not simply my abilities. A host that blends because he wishes to, not because he has to. I wish I could acquaint myself with this man before we join, so that I could know that we would mesh well.

I wish I had that luxury, but I do not. Attaining that would take time, and time is a commodity neither he nor I have.

We learned much in our last mission, my previous host and I. A wealth of information that we never got to share. Vital secrets that he gave his life for. Secrets I can not share if I remain as I am.

A part of me cares not. A part of me wishes to remain in solitude for a time. I am weary. I wish to mourn and remember, unburdened by reality and responsibility. I am tired of fighting, tired of this seemingly ceaseless war we fight. Yet, still echoing in my brain are my host's last words.

_Finish the mission, Kanan. Promise me, you will finish the mission._

_I promise._

  
They prepare the human, removing the strange apparatus from over his mouth. I feel gentle hands reaching into the water and I do not struggle, silently giving my consent.

Feeling the chill of the air on my skin, I get my first glimpse of my new host, unimpeded by the distorting water. So that is the face I shall wear now. He looks weary too, yet I think I see knowledge and humor in his face.   
His hair is silvered, but his countenance is not aged.

They lay me on his bare chest and I nearly recoil from the heat. He is so very sick, so weak he does not even respond to my touch. I can still refuse, still go back to my tank. I feel his breathing change and I look up, meeting his barely opened eyes. I see something in that brown gaze, something that touches me to my core. He knows, knows what I am, knows what I can do. He closes his eyes, making no move to dissuade me. I see no welcome, but no rejection either, just simple resignation.

Please let me heal him, please let him live. Please, please don't let me fail again, I beg, as I arch my back and jump, joining our fates even as I join our bodies.

~Fin~

 


End file.
